


Rebel Hearts and Empty Guns

by twahtohnedskee



Series: DPS Tumblr fics [4]
Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 20:49:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15179057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twahtohnedskee/pseuds/twahtohnedskee
Summary: The result of someone making an Outsiders!AU edit for DPS with Neil as Johnny, Todd as Ponyboy, and Charlie as Dallas. Mostly depicts Charlie's self-destructive reaction to Neil's death.





	Rebel Hearts and Empty Guns

“You punk,” Charlie hissed. “You little punk. Why did you have to go and be a hero, huh? Why did you run into that fucking building?”

Tears streaked down Charlie’s face, the tracks revealing bit by bit the boy he was beneath the grime and blood from the rumble. Todd stayed silent. What could he say when Neil had sucked the air from the room with his last breath? 

Charlie stood up, his face heavy with sorrow and something else. Something dangerous. 

“You see, this?” he said, practically to himself, “This is what you get for being a fucking hero.”

Without warning, he threw a punch at the wall with a frustrated yell. The next thing Todd knew, Charlie was out the door. He wished he could run too, wished he could scream Neil’s name, as if it would bring him back to them. But in the face of Charlie’s grief Todd was numb. He felt a roaring emptiness inside him, a gaping hole where there used to be light. It was all-consuming, making every movement mechanical. His legs seemed to drag him home on their own accord. 

The others, he thought, I have to tell the others. 

.

Charlie felt the cool press of metal through his shirt. Empty, he thought. It was almost funny. He didn’t really know what he was doing when he entered the liquor store. All he knew was that he needed to break something and he wouldn’t stop until the rest of the world was as shattered as he was. 

He started smashing bottles. 

“Hey! What are you doing?" 

That was the owner. Charlie laughed, tipping more bottles off of their shelves and revelling at the sound of them hitting the floor, the crunch of them under his boots. 

"You have to pay for those!” the owner screamed. 

Charlie’s laugh died in his throat. So many deaths tonight, one more wouldn’t make a difference, he thought. He walked over to the owner and pulled out the gun. 

EmptyEmptyEmpty

The guy was terrified. He handed over the money quickly. But the second Charlie’s back was turned, he pulled a pistol. Shots fired and Charlie cursed. He should have known that a liquor store owner would be packing. He ran for it, making a beeline for a pay phone. He called Knox’s house. It was Meeks who picked up. 

“Meeks. Meeks I need your help." 

The conversation was rushed and Charlie was having a hard time breathing. He told them about Neil only to find out that Todd, eyes haunted, had gotten there first. Meeks asked if he was alright. Charlie glanced down at his bloodied shirt and lied. 

"Just meet me at the park, okay? I gotta go.”

He was sure that they’d come find him. His friends, no, his family, had never let him down before.

He heard sirens in the distance and, ignoring the burning in his side, started running again, just like he’d been doing the entire night. Just like he’d been doing his entire life.

.

When the police caught up to him it wasn’t a surprise.

“Hands in the air!” 

Charlie started laughing again. Something had quite obviously snapped. He spreads his arms wide, right hand still holding the gun. He just laughed and laughed and laughed. 

“Drop the weapon!" 

They were pointing their guns at him. He was surrounded and he couldn’t care less. He saw figures running in the distance, and smiled. 

He knew that they would come. 

"I said drop the weapon!” the policeman repeated. They’re just waiting for an excuse to shoot me, Charlie thought. 

He felt oddly calm, as if something had stilled his restlessness. He accepted his fate. Under the street lamp, with his arms outstretched, face bloody, and smile serene he looked like a broken angel. He let his gaze meet that of the officer’s.

“No.”

He pointed the gun at them.

EmptyEmptyEmpty

Gunshots. 

Screaming. 

Pain. 

And then, darkness. Sweet, welcoming, darkness.

Charlie hoped that Neil wasn’t that far ahead.


End file.
